


The Tailor Shop on 32nd Street

by LuckyLikesLemons



Series: WINNER Translations [2]
Category: Winner (Band)
Genre: Angst, Drama, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Romance, Translation, Two Shot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:02:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25913305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuckyLikesLemons/pseuds/LuckyLikesLemons
Summary: Minho's got everything - wealth, reputation, a lover to come home to at the end of the day - or so he thinks.Reality is an axe that swings and falls. It severs and cuts.Sometimes, it bleeds people right out.[Translation of a work written by a good friend of mine, Mahblues. Translating from Vietnamese to English]
Relationships: Kang Seungyoon/Song Minho | Mino
Series: WINNER Translations [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1883656
Comments: 46
Kudos: 20





	The Tailor Shop on 32nd Street

**Author's Note:**

> Based on these lyrics:
> 
> _  
> **If only I could hold you once  
>  I wish you were my lover for just a moment  
> Please, please, please I pray  
> Us, us, us, us together, together  
> Because I love you so much, my greed keeps growing  
> I want you for myself. You by yourself.  
> Don't run, don't escape.**  
> _
> 
> Obsession - G-Dragon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's no smoke without fire, and there's no mirror without shards.

Jiho had a habit of reading the morning newspaper.

Everyday at 8 o'clock on the dot, he made himself comfortable on the balcony lounge chair and swallowed his pills. Next came several cups of tea, his usual blend of English Breakfast. Only after this did he allow himself to touch his neatly folded newspaper, the pages of which he perused with all the scrutiny of a bird of prey.

He paid particular attention to the sensational front page passages. The flashier the headline, the better.

Today's news was his favourite kind. A gruesome murder not too far away from where he lived, eerily similar to one that had took place only a few days ago. No witnesses, no suspects, no concrete evidence left on site.

'You heard about this, Mino? What a mess.'

Jiho proceeded to elaborate the meagre details of the case and the absolute incompetence of the Manhattan police in dealing with violent homicide. His voice had a disparaging tone but his face was alight with ghoulish interest.

Minho listened to the account, not really interested. He took a sip of espresso and glanced at his watch. It was a quarter past eight, forty five minutes before he had to open the shop.

Minho owned a small clothing boutique on 32nd street, located between 5th and 6th Avenue in New York. The store had been founded by his father twenty years earlier and Minho had been extremely proud to take over the business seven years ago.

His shop was quite small, a small enterprise with a handful of people working under his direct supervision. The shop looked rather unassuming from the outside, a cosy little space with walls painted a pale blue. Mino usually stood by the till with a beautiful smile, greeting passers-by with a friendly nod and a wave. Some stopped to gaze at the delicate models displayed in the glass cabinets, only to turn away with a rueful sigh when they glimpsed the price tags.

His garments were expensive, but exquisitely made. His father had not sold such pricey goods in his time, but Minho had brought his own innovations when he'd taken over and adjusted the costs to his taste.

He prided over the quality and the make of his clothes, accepting only a few orders from customers who could afford his creations. Thanks to his eclectic taste and the originality of his designs, his shop had gained quite a reputation in elite circles. Nowadays, he received special requests from several socialites and celebrities.

Eight forty nine. Minho took one last sip of coffee before standing up, interrupting Jiho's news rant with a hurried goodbye. He didn't like anyone arriving late, a rule he applied to himself as well. He always made sure to arrive ten minutes early, just in time to see the shutters roll up.

His morning wasn't very enjoyable. He'd had to tell off a worker for flirting and getting handsy with a customer. A few strange gentlemen had dropped by to browse, entering out of curiosity and leaving as soon as they saw the price list. He'd also had to take measurements for a singer who had made an appointment the day before, but he'd been so caught up with some new sample orders that he'd forgotten to record his personal details on the sewing book. He made a note to call the boy's agency in the evening.

Minho bid goodbye to his last customer of the morning and walked out onto the street, crossing several blocks to the small restaurant he frequented during lunch hours. His steps were quick and brisk, he was going to see his lover after all.

Surprised? Don't be. In this hectic world of mirror shards and broken colour, everyone needs some comfort once in a while. Minho, so used to the punishing world of glitter and fabric, needed that comfort more than most. He found himself in desperate need of a warm smile after his rather dissatisfactory start to the day.

He took a seat after placing his order, lounging back in his chair with chin in hand. He didn't expect to see his beloved here, Seungyoon was currently on shift at the coffee shop right across the street from where he sat.

Seungyoon always slept in and appeared at work only after twelve, right in time for the lunch shift. Although Minho really wanted to see his smile, he didn't want to bother him while he was working.

He stared at the customers drifting in and out of the coffee shop and sighed at the sepia tinted windows that prevented him from getting a good look inside. He comforted himself with the fact that Seungyoon was there somewhere, apron tied and sleeves rolled, black hair falling into his eyes, half awake with a sleepy smile on his face.

Minho popped open a can of soda before making his way back to the shop. He usually closed at five in the afternoon but left at six after all the workers and his apprentice had left.

After closing up, he would usually head home. Seungyoon's shift only ended a few hours later and he would be too tired to keep him company. But today, Minho made an exception. He made a quick stop at the local florists to buy a large bouquet of blue roses before heading to Seungyoon's coffee shop.

Minho found meeting significant others at work rather unprofessional, and he didn't want to make Seungyoon uncomfortable in his workspace. Despite there only being a few customers in the shop, he did not step in. He decided to leave the flowers in Seungyoon's bicycle carrier instead, the one he kept chained to a lamp post by the back entry.

Minho imagined his pleased smile and flushed cheeks when he saw the roses and felt a hundred times better. Seungyoon adored flowers.

On hindsight, if Minho had left in silence, just as soon as he had delivered his gift to Seungyoon, perhaps none of this would've happened.

But something stopped him from leaving, premonition if you will. He watched as a handsome stranger in a red suit entered the shop through the staff door. Instinct told him to stay and see what he was up to. The man hardly looked like an employee of the store.

A few moments later, the man stepped out with someone in tow. A person who was strikingly similar to his own boyfriend, dressed in a blue linen shirt with sleeves rolled up to reveal pink elbows and beige pants over cuffed shoes.

Minho watched in disbelief as the stranger pressed closer to Seungyoon and kissed him after a quick glance to make sure no one was around.

First came the anger. It was sudden and startling in its intensity. Minho crouched low by the car he had hidden behind and curled his fingers into fists to control the rage, letting his chipped nails cut crescents into his palms.

Surprisingly, this wasn't the first time he'd seen his lover with other people. Seungyoon was beautiful, for a lack of better word, beautiful in a way that made your heart race and your pulse flutter. He was like a sensuous work of art, all clean lines and delicate bone structure, hair like wispy raven feathers, eyes like fractured quartz, a smile that stole your breath in one moment and gave you life in the next. Seeing people attracted to him was commonplace, but it hurt nonetheless.

The stranger was tall with dyed blonde hair, dressed in an expensive maroon 3 piece with black bowtie. There was a besotted expression on his face that made him feel slightly sick.

Minho didn't understand why he couldn't be enough for Seungyoon. He had the looks, and he dressed well. He had money, more so than most people. He could buy him whatever he wanted if he so wished, but nothing ever seemed to be enough.

Did Seungyoon like people like that, corporate in commercial suits? Minho's clothes were hand made and personally tailored. They were far better than what the other man was wearing.

Minho hated it, he hated seeing Seungyoon with someone else. He did not like to share his things.

Despite the fury welling inside him like a volcano waiting to erupt, he didn't move. He didn't confront the couple. He just turned around and walked back to the main road.

He still had many jobs to finish tonight, personal requests and some pieces he had set aside to mend. He thought of his workstation at home, industrial sewing machine sitting in a corner, swatches of material pinned to different models, rough sketches of designs scattered around on the floor, tiny bits of chalk and a wooden yardstick by an overflowing wastepaper basket, his father's pair of scissors that he used to cut cloth, cold, heavy, blades gleaming in the dark.

Thinking about his tools made him calm down.

Hopefully the next time he saw him, Seungyoon would welcome him with a beautiful smile, not kiss a man that wasn't Song Minho.

* * *

**Notes:** Hey there! Just started translating this fascinating piece. The problem I face with fic translations: I start one and end up losing steam halfway. Hopefully this doesn't happen with this one. Translating is hard work, I only do it for you guys, so please leave me comments and kudos! Your support really boosts my morale. 

**Life Updates:** Your girl has transferred universities, studying psychology electives and premedical classes. Hopefully she'll be starting med school next year.

 **Ask Me Stuff:** I decided to open this [curious cat](https://curiouscat.me/LuckyLikesLemons) for giggles. Come find me on [twitter](http://www.twitter.com/LuckyLikesLemon), I gift fics to friends I like 🙃


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